


Spectator Sport

by coaldustcanary



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Reluctant Friendship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8859373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/pseuds/coaldustcanary
Summary: A peaceable moment in a complicated relationship. (But what relationship isn't complicated in Storybrooke?)





	

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of fluffy future fic based on a tumblr prompt from a while back - Hooked Queen + parenting. I like their dynamic, because I personally think there's grudging fondness even in their sharpest snark at one another.

Killian was used to spare, even Spartan accommodations. He’d lived for hundreds of years on a marvel of a ship, and even the Jolly’s relative creature comforts – wood enchanted against rot and leak, a snugly warm cabin, and a few heavy quilts – had done little to cushion the hard edges of such a home. There was little softness in a life at sea, even for a captain.

That acknowledged, Killian felt confident that these seating contraptions he'd heard called “bleachers” barely compared favorably with the hard seats from which he’d once rowed a galley oar when he was about the same age as Henry and his teammates currently milling about on the playing field.

He shifted awkwardly on the metal bench, muffling a curse and wishing he’d brought his flask with him, regardless of Emma’s firm reminder that alcohol was not permitted on Storybrooke High School grounds, even in the hands of responsible adults. (Nothing was mentioned about irresponsible adults, but he’d taken the hint nonetheless.) Henry’s soccer game had yet to even begin, and already his backside was numb and his knees were uncomfortably crooked. He glanced sideways at the other parents and Storybrooke denizens occupying the rest of the tiered seating – despite the inevitable strange mix of folk, he saw that he was attracting the usual pointed and curious looks. With some effort, he schooled his expression into something that might pass for neutrality – though he couldn’t prevent his eyes from rolling heavenward for a long moment – and straightened his shoulders, fixing his gaze on the field and steeling himself for a long afternoon, for Henry’s sake.

As the players jogged out on the field, a round of scattered applause began around him, and he grimaced once more as he caught another smirking sideways glance from some stranger a few seats away. Yes, ha ha, I can’t clap, you smug arse. Bloody perfect.

“Hook.” Killian drew breath and turned with a scowl to snap a sharp retort to see Regina standing next to his seat at the bleachers’ edge, one brow lifted in eloquent question.

“What are you doing?”

He snapped his mouth shut, and nodded briskly by way of greeting.

“Regina. Emma’s working the evening shift tonight in trade for her father. David was needed at home to help with the little one to…”

“Yes, I’m aware that David’s looking after Neal, and Snow had a PTA meeting to oversee. Emma texted me earlier. What are _you_ doing here?” Regina frowned, her brows drawing down as she shrugged a pair of awkwardly-shaped bags higher on her shoulder. Killian snorted and stood up from his seat with a muffled groan, the rickety bleachers creaking ominously with a hollow metallic vibration as he stepped off and to the grass. He rubbed idly behind his ear with a grimace and shrugged.

“Henry mentioned that you weren’t certain to be able to make the game tonight. I didn’t want him to miss having a friendly face in the crowd.” Killian gestured vaguely toward the field, glancing over to see if the game had begun yet, hoping Henry was too busy with his friends to notice their awkward conversation before he could make a quiet exit now that Regina had arrived. Instead, he felt an sudden weight pull at his arm as Regina looped one of the bags she carried over his hand. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but somewhat awkward to carry, though as he shrugged it over his left arm and turned back from the field with a grunt of annoyance and a dry bit of snark on his tongue.

“I could manage the other as…” But Regina was already stalking off down the sideline, and he found himself trailing in her wake curiously, feeling the weight of many eyes on his back. Well out of earshot of the crowd at the bleachers, Regina propped the strange bag she carried against the chain-link fence, and without preamble, yanked the other bag briskly from his shoulder and opened it. She pulled a bundle of fabric tangled with lengths of lightweight metal from within, not sparing him a glance as she manipulated the strange assembly with a frown of concentration. Shaking his head a little and shrugging his jacket back into place on his shoulders with a slight frown, Killian hesitated.

“Is there… Never mind. I’ll just be…” With a final sharp gesture and a sharp report of snapped fabric, the confused mess of pieces Regina was manipulating suddenly became a chair, which she dropped to the grass with a flourish and a pleased smile. She fixed Killian with an imperious look, crooked a finger, and pointed at the conjured seat sharply.

“Sit.” Killian blinked as Regina turned to dig the other folding chair out of the bag, taking only a few seconds to transform what looked like a bundle of sticks into a second chair, into which she promptly settled herself, producing a pair of sunglasses from within her smart jacket and sliding them into place on her face. With a serene expression, Regina peered up at him over the top edge of the glasses, eyebrow pointedly raised.

“Do you need an engraved invitation, pirate? Sit. Down.” Gingerly, Killian lowered himself into the flimsy fabric chair, blinking back a curse as he let it properly take his weight. It was sturdier than it looked, and it was comfortable. From within her stylish leather bag she produced a pair of small water bottles, one of which she wedged into a pocket sewn into the arm of his chair that seemed to be designed for this very purpose.

“You have two jobs, if you think you’re up to it,” Regina began with a tart touch of snark in her voice, uncapping her own water bottle and taking a small sip.

“The first is to cheer when Henry’s team is doing well.” Killian quirked an eyebrow at that.

“Aye, well, I’m not entirely clear on the game’s rules, but I’m sure I’ll manage to figure it out.”

“Indeed. If they’re successfully kicking the ball into the other team’s net, that’s a good thing, I think even you can manage,” Regina said dryly.

“I’ll do my best,” he retorted. “And two?”

“If I hex the referee after a bad call, come up with an alibi your girlfriend will buy.” That startled a laugh out of him.

“Consider it done.”


End file.
